a ray of sunset
by singing-along
Summary: The dark keys make music too. Drabble collection, open for requests.
1. Chapter 1

**Written for the No Names challenge on HPFC. **

**Pairing: Pansy/Hermione**

* * *

The Gryffindor Mudblood is fucking _beautiful_.

Wet hair curling, caressing porcelain ears. Lips puckered, sinfully red. Muscle stretching beneath expanses of velvet milk skin, disappearing beneath the towel. Droplets sliding, smooth and light down that narrow back, trailing over narrow, perfect hips.

The Prefects' bathroom is too hot, too steamed_._

* * *

Will she taste like scented honey, or the forbidden (_yes_) scum she is? Does she love like a novice, or a siren, stretched out, luxurious...

The bathroom is crossed in three steps.

Slytherin girls - pug-faced, _no_ \- take what they want.

The Mudblood looks up, eyes wide and breath hitching.


	2. Tomorrow (Abraxas and Tom)

**For the creepy pairing drabble of the day competition on HPFC.**

**Pairing: Abraxas/Tom**

* * *

Today, Abraxas will tell Riddle that he is different.

Abraxas will not torture Muggleborns. He will not be a killer. He will not curse, will not rape, will not fight for something that's so (_wrong, wrong, wrong_).

He knows what Riddle is up to within just a few of those meetings that he soon realized were not actual study group sessions. Riddle meant it, for real. He meant _war_. It does not matter that Riddle has those _beautiful_ features, chiseled as that of a marble _god_. It does not matter that he has that curl in his lip when he smirks (not quite in Abraxas's direction, but close enough to make his heart tremble. Teasing, red, perfect, _god_).

It will not matter anymore. Abraxas Malfoy will bring humanity to his bloodline of Dark wizards.

He will tell Riddle that he is different.

Then Riddle saunters into the common room and throws him that piercing, _burning_ gaze, carries him with it, like a puppeteer does a lifeless marionette. Slips into his seat, tickles those _fingers_ (light, fluid, graceful) across his chest, skin smooth and white and perfect, mouth red and smirking and delicious. Eyes calculating, triumphant, sure he has won, again.

And Abraxas is standing, pulling him up and dragging him to the dormitory, and by the time he remembers what he is doing again, it is too late.

Tomorrow, Abraxas will tell Riddle that he is different.


	3. Fantasia

**For butterflygirly99's Pick A Card, Any Card challenge on HPFC, for the card Eight of Hearts: write a Bellamort fic. **

**Also for the Lamia of the Dark's Creepy Pairings Drabble Competition. Pairing: Bellatrix/Voldemort.**

He clogs up her senses. Suffocates the spaces in the mush of her brain, until there is nothing else but aching chest and biting teeth and thick hot clouds constructing everything. Unbreathable, unstoppable, because he has twisted her senses around the curve of flexed fingers, dug deep inside and locked himself there with hollow, void eyes. Torn her laughing away from gazes alive and seeing, that hold reason away from her corroding mind.

The air is madness and there he is - her shining hero, shining with his beauty, shining with the white glow of his heroic sin, his twisted lies and hollow cheeks and suffocation, striped with with broad swipes of dirt-ridden smile, teeth so wide he could smile up the whole sunshine. (Hero.)

Fantasies, all fantasies, because when she is able to breathe again there is nothing more. The denouement will dawn with wretched heart and icy sunrise, icy floor, icy emptiness

"Stay, my Lord." A command masked as a plea. A plea masked as a command. Either way, air is too thin, too _liquid_.

The white hand pauses on the door handle.


	4. Destruction

**For the Marauder Era Competition and Pick A Card, Any Card Challenge on HPFC. **

**Prompts used: emerging, destruction. **

X

Rabastan is tall and courteous. His face is shaved, his lean form dressed in smart, starched robes. Alecto Carrow smiles from beside him, civil and polite, hands tucked neatly in front of her. Bella wraps a single arm around Narcissa and pulls her forward.

"Come on, Cissy. Come on. Look at us. We only fight for nobility. We don't want destruction."

Later, Lucius takes hold of her hands and asks her to join their noble cause, their fight for freedom. Narcissa says that she will think about it.

X

The night is dark, but Narcissa is not afraid. She has walked this path at this hour for ages, after her weekly visits to Bella's house at the other side of the road because in all irony, the magical protection around the buildings in this area has rendered Apparition impossible. Her husband is Lucius Malfoy. No one of any blood status will touch her.

Besides, the Death Eaters don't_ want _destruction.

When the figure emerges, as though solidifying from the liquid darkness, and pelts in her direction, she does not think much about it. It is probably just a Muggle from a nearby house doing... well, Narcissa isn't one to know what Muggles do in the late evening.

As it passes a street lamp, however, Narcissa realises that the figure - whoever he is - is wearing robes, with a dark hood pulled over his head - and it is charging straight at her.

Narcissa's heart catches in her chest. She freezes on the spot, hand tensed uselessly in front of her. The man is on her before she knows it, slamming her face-first into a wall. The rough concrete scrapes against her skin, bloodying it. Her nose shatters on impact. Before she can react, his hand slips into her pocket and confiscates her wand, and Narcissa's heart is beating again, so fast, too fast, pounding feverishly against her chest. Narcissa screams, but the stranger claps a hand over her mouth and draws his wand to her neck.

The stench of bear and ferment and sweat and _body_ chokes her. She twists and writhes, but the man's arm wrenches her into place.

"Such a pretty Mudblood. What a pity..." the man drawls, and Narcissa is so shocked she momentarily stops struggling. It is Rudolphus. Rudolphus, with the smart suit and courteous smile and polite handshakes. Rudolphus, with his metal grip and breath like acid on her neck, wand jabbing into her neck.

"Avada -"

As suddenly as he came, he releases her. Narcissa fell back against the wall, body throbbing with the pain that surged at the loss of tight-gripped numbness. Rudolphus is staring at her in shock, the wild animal that emerged subsiding back into stillness.

"Narcissa," he breathes. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I thought you were a neighbourhood Muggleborn. She has hair similar to yours, you know..."

He falls to his knees, begs for her forgiveness, begs her not to tell her sister, not to tell Lucius, not to tell anyone.

When Narcissa leaves though, she is still shaking.

X

Later, Lucius takes hold of her hands and asks her to join their noble cause, their fight for freedom. Narcissa shakes her head.

They only mean destruction.


End file.
